The Spirit and the Flesh
by Mrs Pepperpot
Summary: Could there ever have been a happy ending for Father Peter Clifford and Assumpta Fitzgerald? I say, yes, but perhaps with a slightly bitter sweet flavour. Please R & R, thank you.
1. In A Broken Dream

**I recently re-watched series 1 - 3 of Ballykissangel, and sobbed my way through the end of The Reckoning and Amongst Friends. Stephen Tompkinson's performance as the bereaved Father Peter Clifford is just devastating. I find Assumpta's death and the aftermath so jarring in the context of the rest of the series, I've never been able to make peace with it. I don't know if any other ending was ever considered, only that Dervla Kirwan was bored with the role and wanted to move on. It is only television, and tragic deaths do happen all the time in reality and fiction. This one didn't feel earned though, and I think the majority of the audience probably felt cheated. I have already written one AU fanfic as an alternative ending to series 3, and then I got the idea for this one. This story begins from the point after Father Peter Clifford makes the telephone call to Assumpta Fitzgerald, and after he meets her by the river Angel, during The Reckoning. The events thereafter, including Assumpta's death and Peter leaving the village, play out only in his mind. I hope it isn't too confusing, or too much like the Dallas 'Bobby Ewing in the shower' storyline. This fanfic will use some scenarios and lines of dialogue from Amongst Friends, but I do not own anything related to Ballykissangel. Please leave a review and let me know what you think, thank you - Mrs P.**

* * *

The Spirit and the Flesh

1. In a Broken Dream

The sound of the ambulance siren sent everyone rushing out into the street for a glimpse of whatever drama was unfolding. Ballykissangel was a sleepy village most of the time, and a visit from the emergency services was a rare event.

"Where's it going to?"

Padraig called out to Brendan as he was the first out of the door at Fitzgerald's, and being tall, he commanded the best view.

"I dunno, could be St. Joseph's," the school teacher said.

_Oh God, what if it's for Father Mac? _Assumpta felt a twinge of guilt for her old adversary. The shock of Peter declaring his intention to leave the priesthood might have been too much for him. He was a sly old goat though, and she found it hard to believe it would come as that much of a surprise to him. He was certainly in no ignorance of his curate's feelings for her. If anything, she reasoned, he had probably keeled over to make Peter feel even guiltier than he already did.

"I think it's definitely gone up to the church," Brendan said as he set off towards St. Joseph's, taking Padraig and Siobhan with him.

Assumpta stood in the pub doorway and contemplated heading up the hill. If Father Mac had been taken ill, then she was the last person he'd want to see. She hesitated, despite her longing to see Peter again, and judged it best not to add to the drama. There was still plenty of preparation to be done for the Chinese food fair, and so she got back to it. The sound of hurried footsteps outside halted her progress as Brendan burst into the bar gasping from the exertion to deliver his news.

"Assumpta, it's Peter, Kathleen Hendley said he collapsed by the altar and he's hit his head on the way down."

He paused to try and get his breath back but his friend had already rushed past him to get to the church.

Her heart was pounding with fear as she ran up the hill towards St. Joseph's. He had to be alright, she reasoned. Nothing could happen to him, not now, not ever. She arrived in time to see Peter being stretchered out towards the ambulance. He was pale and his eyes were open but they looked glassy. He didn't seem to be fully aware of his surroundings. There was blood in his hair, from what looked to be a small head wound. Father Mac was standing guard and didn't attempt to hide his disgust at her emotional behaviour.

"What happened? Is he going to be alright?" Assumpta tried to get to Peter's side, but the paramedics blocked her way as they loaded him onto the ambulance.

"I'm going with him," she declared, not caring who heard her.

She could have sworn he was whimpering her name and she tried again to get closer to him.

Father Mac's face was like thunder as he moved to block her access.

"May I remind you that Father Clifford is still an ordained priest," he sternly whispered.

"I know it doesn't matter to you, but I can assure you that it matters to him. Think of what it would look like, and you a married woman. I shall accompany him to the hospital."

Assumpta's concern for Peter outweighed her anger, and for his sake she didn't want to cause a scene. She decided she would just get in her van and follow the ambulance. Father MacAnally couldn't stop her doing that, nor could he keep her away from the man she loved forever. Assumpta realised she hadn't even told Peter how much he meant to her, and she intended to put that right.

She saw Brendan standing by the church gates and rushed over to him.

"I need you, Padraig and Siobhan to look after the pub for me, please," she begged.

"How's Peter?" He inquired with deep concern.

"They won't tell me anything, and I have to get to the hospital. I know it's a lot to ask, with the food fair and everything, but I really need your help," Assumpta looked into Brendan's eyes and hoped he would understand without the need for further explanation.

He had long suspected a special bond between the publican and the priest, and now he could see her love for him written all over her face. He gave a nod of his head and she threw her arms around him for a quick hug of gratitude.

They hastily made their way back to Fitzgerald's and she ran inside for the keys to the van. Padraig and Siobhan followed her inside as they fretted about Peter. Kathleen had reported hearing him muttering about losing Assumpta in his semi-conscious state, and they weren't sure what to make of it.

"Are you sure going to the hospital is wise? Father Mac won't like it," Brendan cautioned.

He had waited outside to talk to her privately before she left.

"He can go to hell," Assumpta said as she drove away.

* * *

Assumpta got held up by sheep on the road to Cilldargan. The ambulance had long since disappeared from her view, and she struggled to keep to the speed limits for fear of attracting attention from the Guards. She was frantic with worry by the time she finally got to the hospital. The staff were less than helpful and she couldn't get any information as to where Peter had been taken. Assumpta slumped down on an empty chair and let out a heavy sigh. He had finally admitted his feelings for her, and then this had happened. She wondered if he would think God had struck him down for declaring his love for a married woman.

"You couldn't stay away, could you?" Father Mac angrily inquired.

His sudden appearance and sharp tone made her jump out of her seat.

"Where's Peter? Is he alright?" She desperately looked around for any sign of him.

"The doctors are doing tests, but it appears he collapsed from nervous exhaustion, or some such. He hit his head and has a concussion, so he's not making much sense at present. Mind you, the way things have been lately, it would be hard to tell the difference," he sneered.

"I want to see him," Assumpta demanded.

"Haven't you done enough damage? The man's just lost his mother, he's in a vulnerable state, and you couldn't wait to sink your claws into him, could you?" Father Mac refused to hide his contempt.

She slapped his face before she could think better of it.

He put his hand to his cheek and fixed her with a withering look.

"All of this is your doing, Assumpta Fitzgerald, you have been the ruin of him. Father Clifford was a good priest and you are willing to destroy everything he's worked so hard for. All you can offer him is an adulterous relationship and, one presumes, an eventual civil wedding. If you don't intend to live in sin forever, that is. Although, your relationship will always be sinful in the eyes of the Catholic Church. He might choose you over his vocation, but your lives will be forever tainted," he warned.

She was seething with rage, but after already raising her hand to a priest, she refused to let her temper get the better of her again. His words had shaken her more than she cared to admit, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him see their effect.

"I'll give Peter your best regards when he wakes up, will I?" Assumpta said with sarcasm as she walked away and left Father Mac standing alone in the corridor.

She continued onwards in a directionless manner as she still had no idea where to go.

"Can I help you?" A friendly looking nurse inquired.

"Oh God, I hope so, I'm looking for Peter Clifford," Assumpta explained.

The nurse went over to her desk and leafed through some paperwork.

"Would that be _Father_ Clifford? Are you a relation?" She asked, her friendly facade turning to suspicion.

"I'm a… friend. Is he alright? Can I see him?" Assumpta was growing increasingly desperate.

The nurse looked uncertain, but she wasn't without compassion.

"Father Clifford is resting now, and we'll need to keep an eye on him overnight due to the mild concussion he's suffered." she explained as she referred to his chart.

"I'll tell him you were here and asking after him, when he wakes up," she promised.

Assumpta had no intention of leaving without seeing him. It was a delicate situation though, and after her altercation with Father Mac, she didn't want to cause any more trouble for Peter. She reluctantly decided it would be best to go back home and return to the hospital first thing the next morning. The nurse assured her he was resting comfortably, and Assumpta scribbled a quick note for him, in case he woke up and wondered why she wasn't there. She recalled him mentioning his recent lack of sleep, and that coupled with the loss of his mother, not to mention all the stress over his decision to leave the priesthood, it was no wonder he'd buckled under the strain.

_I love you, Peter, and soon we'll be together forever,_ she silently vowed, and then set off back to Ballykissangel.

* * *

Peter thrashed around in his sleep and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

_He had lost everything and now he was walking away from the place he'd called home for the last three years. Assumpta was gone forever and there was nothing left to stay for, only memories and regret. He would never forget that image of her, laying on the cold stone floor, her face pale and her body still. _

_Why did you leave me? He sobbed._

_I wanted you to be my wife, the mother of my children, my lover and companion forever and ever, amen._

_He kept walking over hills and through valleys, in pursuit of the always elusive horizon. He felt untethered and adrift, with no destination to call home._

_Assumpta…_

Peter's eyes flickered open, and he began to slowly recover his senses. The first thing he became aware of was his sore throbbing head, and the second was confusion at his surroundings.

The nurse came in to check on him, as she'd heard him call out in his sleep.

"Ah, Father Clifford, you're back with us then?" She smiled as she checked his pulse.

"Where am I? I… I don't understand," he stuttered.

"Don't you remember what happened yesterday evening, Father? You collapsed in the church and banged your head when you fell. Father MacAnally explained how you'd only just returned to work after losing your mother, maybe you went back too soon?" She questioned.

Peter couldn't quite comprehend what the nurse was saying, it made no sense to him. He had been on the road after turning his back on Ballykissangel forever, hadn't he? How could he have collapsed in the church? His head hurt too much to try and piece it all together. He let his thoughts drift back to the woman who'd occupied his conscious and unconscious mind for the last few years.

"Assumpta…" he whimpered.

"Would that be Assumpta Fitzgerald?" The nurse questioned.

He nodded in bewilderment as tears streaked down his cheeks.

"She came in to ask after you while you were sleeping. She left this for you," the nurse handed him a folded piece of paper.

Peter's eyes were wide with shock as he shakily reached out and took the note.

"Try to get some more rest," she said, leaving him alone.

He let out a sob as he stared at the paper in his hand. He reasoned he had to be dreaming still, what other explanation could there be? He carefully unfolded the note and glanced over the hastily scribbled words on the page. It was her handwriting, and he read it again and again, all the time wishing it was real.

_Peter, I didn't want the first time I said this to you to be on paper. But at least this way you've got written evidence, should you ever need it. I love you so very much. I hope you sleep well, and I'll come and see you in the morning. Love forever, Assumpta._

He stumbled out of bed and went in search of a telephone. He ignored the nurse's protests and found what he was looking for. He dialled the number and waited in high anxiety for the ringing tone to be answered.

"Fitzgerald's..."

Peter let out a strangled sob and slumped to the floor.


	2. It's A Sin

The Spirit and the Flesh

2. It's A Sin

"Assumpta?"

Peter eventually managed to speak her name through his tears.

She was beside herself with worry over his distressed state and wished she was there to hold him in her arms.

The nurse tried to get him to return to his bed, but he wouldn't move.

"You died, I mean, it must've been a dream, but I saw you laid out on the cellar floor after that blasted fuse box electrocuted you. Promise me you won't touch it again, please, you have to promise," he begged.

"Oh Peter, I'm fine, and I'm here, the fuse box is beyond help though, Padraig's already given it the last rights," Assumpta said.

He laughed and cried all at once as relief flooded through him.

"Why don't you go back to bed, eh? Get some rest and I'll be there to see you as soon as I can, Father Mac be damned," she promised.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too, now would you ever bog off back to bed," she jested.

Peter returned to his room and he stared up at the simple wooden cross on the wall. He gave thanks to God for Assumpta's life, and he prayed for the Almighty's understanding regarding their love. The nurse offered him a sedative, which he gratefully accepted. He rested against his pillow and let his emotions pour out, until he fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

The sun was streaming through the window when Peter awoke, and he looked hopefully around for Assumpta. He was starting to doubt the events he thought were dreams and those which he considered to be reality. The doctor came in to see him, and explained he needed to take things easy for a while. The diagnosis was that his collapse had been brought on by stress and sleep deprivation; two things he'd had in excess of late. There was also talk about treatments for depression and bereavement counselling, but all Peter wanted was Assumpta.

The nurse knocked on the door.

"You've a visitor, Father," she announced, and his heart leapt.

It sank again as soon as he saw the brooding figure of Father Mac enter the room.

"So, you're back with us then? Is it too much to hope the fall knocked some sense into your head?" The old priest was as sardonic as ever.

The doctor and nurse departed to let them talk in peace, although Peter suspected there wouldn't be much of the latter.

"She struck me, you know, your precious Assumpta," Father Mac's voice was full of contempt.

Peter was shocked.

"What did you say to her?" He questioned.

"Does it matter? What could ever justify violence like that? I'll never understand what you see in that woman," the elder priest said as he sat heavily down on the visitor's chair.

Peter was cut off before he could make his reply.

"I need to know your intentions, you've a christening booked for Saturday, and we can't have this business dragging on and on," Father Mac was adamant.

In all the confusion of his foggy mind, Father Clifford had completely forgotten about his commitment to the Egan family. He didn't want to let them down, but he was resolute.

"I want to marry Assumpta," he stated.

"She's already married," Father Mac spat out with scorn.

"And I'm a Catholic priest," Peter said as he glanced over at the cross on the wall.

"Not for much longer though, and Assumpta will get a divorce eventually."

Father Mac rolled his eyes.

"What you are proposing is a sin in the eyes of the Catholic Church, and if you choose this woman over your faith, you will be choosing to live in sin," he preached.

"I love her, and I can't live without her, sin or not," Peter was sure.

His nightmare might have been a manifestation of his fevered mind, but it had clarified his feelings and made the decision he'd had to take an easier one.

Father Mac was never one to give in without a fight. He still had one last option to offer, and he regarded it as his duty to do so. He vowed to exhaust every avenue in his attempt to save Father Clifford's soul, at least that's how he saw it.

"I'm not proposing you go on retreat again, but there is a place, near to your home city as it happens, called St. Christina's. It was established as a sanctuary for priests who are struggling with mental tortures, of one kind or another. It's a place where you can go for help and guidance to set you back on the true path to righteousness."

Peter had heard of St. Christina's before in the case of a priest with a fondness for more than the altar wine. He was outraged that Father Mac would suggest he should be packed off to such a place. The range of sins ministered to were probably comparable by his reckoning, but it was the final straw for Peter.

"I'm done with the priesthood, so do whatever you have to do. I'll be at Fitzgerald's, if you need to contact me for anything," he said.

Father Mac gave a sad nod of resignation, and his thoughts then turned to his now-former-curate's intended living arrangements.

"If you're planning on staying in Ballykissangel, let me advise you against it. There may be a few, less devout members of the community, who won't object to you breaking your vows. But many of your former parishioners will be deeply upset by all of this. You will only be adding to their distress and confusion when your replacement takes over at St. Joseph's. Those who feel friendship and loyalty towards you will be torn, and the new priest may find his position undermined. A house divided against itself cannot stand, and if you can't do the right thing, I hope you will at least do the decent thing," he said.

Peter could feel his anger rising, Father Mac had never been the easiest of people to deal with and he certainly wasn't pulling any punches now. It wasn't as if he'd expected anything else, but the lack of even a shred of compassion did rankle.

"Ballykissangel is Assumpta's home, and it's become mine too over these last three years. I don't think you're giving the community enough credit, they're good people and I think they'll give us a chance," he argued.

Father Mac narrowed his eyes to show his annoyance and scepticism.

"You were their priest, and now you'll be what? A barman? Pulling their pints and doling out sage advice with the bar snacks. How the mighty will have fallen!"

"I can live with that," Peter shrugged.

"I just hope you don't live to regret it," Father Mac cautioned.

There was a knock at the door and Assumpta came bursting in without waiting for an invitation.

The elder priest threw her a look of disgust.

"I'll leave you to it then, goodbye _Mister_ Clifford," he said.

"It's always a pleasure to see you, Father Mac, especially from the back," Assumpta sneered.

Peter gave her a disapproving glare, but he couldn't help smirking just a little bit.

She had been loitering behind the door and managed to hear much of their conversation. It was food for thought, even if her temper made her want to dismiss the old priest's lecture. There was a selfish part of her that wanted Peter all to herself, and their lives might be simpler if they made a fresh start somewhere else.

"Come here you," he commanded.

Assumpta went willingly into his open arms, and he held her tightly to him as he stroked her hair.

"I love you so much, and I thought I'd lost you," he wept.

She pulled back slightly so she could look into his eyes.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere, sure there'll be no getting rid of me now," she vowed.

Peter's eyes focused on her lips, he hadn't kissed her yet, and he was desperate to. He gently cupped her face in his hands and moved in closer.

"You're willing to lumber yourself with me without even knowing if I'm a good kisser?" He teased.

Assumpta felt a warm flush as his passionate gaze had the effect of reducing her to a blushing teenager.

He tentatively brushed his lips against hers, and finding them soft and welcoming, he deepened the kiss.

She ran her fingers through his hair and accidently caught the sore spot where he'd bumped his head. He flinched and they reluctantly broke apart to catch their breath.

"Sorry," Assumpta gasped.

"I just hope the nurse doesn't come in to check me blood pressure anytime soon," he quipped.

She smiled but her mood turned serious.

"Peter, I heard some of what Father Mac said to you, and loathe as I am to admit it, he does have a point," she said.

His eyes widened with surprise.

"Has hell frozen over?" He joked.

Assumpta playfully slapped his arm.

"We could leave BallyK, it doesn't have to be forever, just until we've had a chance to spend some time alone together as a couple. It's hard making a relationship work, especially one with so many outside pressures, and I won't be able to get a divorce for months yet," she argued.

"We need to have faith in our friends, they'll stand by us, we don't have to run away," Peter countered.

"I've lived in BallyK a lot longer than you, and I've known the people there all my life. They aren't gonna take me defrocking a priest lying down," Assumpta tried to ignore her companion's smirk at the imagery her words conjured up.

"And you're not just any old priest either, they love you, and they'll hate me for taking you away from them."

She couldn't help feeling a little deflated despite her elation over finally being with the man she adored.

Peter wanted to hold on to his positivity that everything would work out and be well in the end. But as he considered what the likes of Kathleen Hendley would have to say about the matter, his confidence began to crumble.

"We don't have to decide right away, do we? Let's at least test the waters a bit first, see how things go?" He said half-heartedly.

"Sure, I'll probably be bankrupt by the time Padraig's finished upgrading the fuse box anyway," she shrugged.

Peter leaned in for another kiss just the nurse entered the room and he jumped back. Assumpta noted his skittishness and decided it was time for her to leave.

"The doctor will be back to examine you later, and then you might be able to go home," the nurse explained as she set down a cup of tea by his bedside.

"I'd better be getting back, you call me when you've seen the doctor and I'll come to take you home, if you get discharged," she promised.

"Err, yeah, about that," Peter began to nervously fidget with his bed sheet.

"I'll have to pack up and move me things into the pub, I mean I'm not suggesting we… not until we're both ready, but…" he felt awkward about the practicalities of the new life that awaited him, even though he was sure he was doing the right thing.

Assumpta took pity on him, although she had no intention of letting him off the hook regarding the harsh realities of what they were about to undertake.

"Peter, if we're gonna be living under the same roof, and staying in BallyK, you'll have to get over your squeamishness. We are talking serious scandal here; a married woman and a Catholic priest, stories like ours have made the national press before now," she warned.

He sank back against his pillow and rubbed at his aching temples as he imagined the salacious headlines. A hasty purchase of a pair of one way tickets to a faraway land was becoming a more attractive option by the second.

"God help us!" He exclaimed.

"Sure what chance has God got against Kathleen Hendley?" Assumpta quipped.

She gave Peter a quick kiss on the forehead and then headed off back to Fitzgerald's. The gossips would already be in full flow, and yet she couldn't stop a smile spreading across her face. Her one true love would have to turn out to be a priest, she laughed at the irony. He was a pretty good kisser too, she thought, and whatever happened next, he was worth the trouble.


	3. That's What Friends Are For

The Spirit and the Flesh

3. That's What Friends Are For

Fitzgerald's was as quiet as the grave when Assumpta arrived back at the bar. Padraig was nowhere to be found and Niamh had locked up as the power was still off. She glanced around the old place and wondered how much she would really miss it. The constant repairs and fluctuating business were never going to make her rich, then there were the long hours. But it was her home, and had been all her life, apart from a few years spent at college. It wasn't as if she hadn't contemplated leaving before, and in truth, it was Peter who'd kept her anchored to the place for this long. She could never stay away from him, even after her foolishly hasty marriage to Leo. Assumpta felt a twinge of guilt, despite swearing off it when she stopped going to church. She couldn't help falling in love with Peter, nor he with her, but they had landed themselves in one hell of a mess because of it.

"Ah, you're back," Padraig broke into her reverie as he entered the bar.

"You promised me the power would be back on, I can't run a pub without it," she protested.

"That's what I came to tell you, I'm fixing up a car and I need some parts from Cilldargan. I was going anyway to get your new fuse box, so I might as well kill the two birds with one stone," he explained.

"Ah, Padraig," she grumbled over the delay.

"How's Father Clifford?" He inquired in hopes of diverting her attention and temper.

_He's coming to the realisation that a bump on his head is the least of his worries, _she thought.

"Sure, he'll be fine."

Padraig nodded and set off back to work, after warning Assumpta not to mess with anything in the cellar.

She glanced over at the hatch, and remembering Peter's bad dream, a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't intend to tempt fate, especially now, when God might welcome an opportunity to strike her down.

"There you are so," Niamh's voice made her start.

"I've just seen dad, and he told me there's a journalist from The Enquirer sniffing around the place. Her car broke down in the village, and it looks like she's been killing the time waiting on it being fixed by doing some snooping. Apparently, she was in the shop and overheard Kathleen talking about Father Clifford's accident, and now she's going from door to door asking people about him," she explained.

"Why in the world would a journalist be interested in a priest bumping his head? Unless she thinks he's been at the altar wine," Assumpta joked to cover her anxiety.

It seemed her and Peter's worst nightmare was coming true, as fate had seen fit to strand a member of the gutter press on their doorstep.

Niamh looked uncomfortable, as if there was something she wanted to say, but wasn't sure how to begin.

"I think Kathleen might have given her the impression that you and Peter were, well, you know?" She said.

"I'll just bet she did," Assumpta was fuming.

"She mentioned how you'd been at his hospital bedside, and that she suspected you weren't there out of religious devotion. She said it wasn't God you'd been getting close to for the last three years," Niamh frowned.

She scrutinised her friend's reaction to the accusations, and couldn't determine if the colour in her cheeks was due to anger, or whether guilt was making her blush.

"The spiteful old cow," Assumpta seethed.

She started to nervously fiddle with things behind the bar, upon realising that the Guard's wife was about to subject her to the third degree.

"So why have you been at the hospital? I know the two of you are friends, but I've eyes in my head, and after Leo…"

Niamh paused, she'd long suspected the truth, if she was honest. It was another thing to hear it spoken aloud though.

The sound of the telephone ringing saved the landlady from answering, and she couldn't help being glad of the temporary reprieve. The call was from Peter, to let her know he was being released from hospital. The walls were closing in on them, and she hoped they were strong enough to withstand the pressure.

Assumpta knew her friend needed an answer, and she deserved one.

"I love him, Niamh, and he loves me. It's not as if we meant for this to happen, and God knows we've both fought against it, but we were only delaying the inevitable," she confessed.

It suddenly felt as if the temperature had dropped a few degrees.

"I was right, wasn't I, when I said you only wanted the men you couldn't have? Except you don't let little things like him wearing a Roman collar, or the fact you'd a wedding ring on your finger, stand in your way," Niamh raged.

"Now, wait a minute…" Assumpta tried to calm things down, but was quickly cut off.

"How could you? Both of you? Peter's the best priest this village has seen in a long time, and what about Kieran's christening?"

Niamh only paused to draw breath.

"Like I said, I've got eyes, and I'd be lying if I pretended this had come at me out of the blue, but still, poor Leo. How could you have married him when you were in love with another man? You broke his heart."

Assumpta sighed, and she couldn't deny what was true.

"I wished I could've loved Leo, and I wanted to, he had one fatal flaw though; he wasn't Peter. You can't make yourself love somebody any more than you can force yourself to stop loving someone you shouldn't," she said.

They both fell silent, and as Assumpta was expected at the hospital, she decided it might be best to give her friend some space.

"Will I be seeing you then?" She asked as Niamh got up to leave.

"Ballykissangel's a small place, sure I'd see you whether I wanted to or not."

* * *

Peter was dressed in his clerical suit, without the dog collar, and in a pensive mood as he walked out of the hospital with Assumpta. She told him about the stranded reporter and of Niamh's reaction to their relationship. He didn't speak a word or give any response and she began to worry he'd had a change of heart.

"Father Mac said some harsh things, but I think I'd better go and see him. He won't want any scandal, if it can be avoided," Peter reasoned.

"What's going on? I thought you'd made your choice and now you're back in that suit fretting about the boss," Assumpta glared at him.

"I'm in the suit because that's what I came here in, and as for Father Mac, I don't want to cause him any more trouble than I have to," he explained.

"Why not? The miserable old sod, I bet he's not concerned about sparing us any grief," she argued.

"He won't say anything to that reporter, if that's what you mean, he won't want the bad publicity for the church. I'm telling you this in the strictest confidence, and you're not to repeat it to a soul, but Father Mac recently had a minor heart attack," Peter confided.

"Sure I didn't think he had one, a swinging brick, maybe," Assumpta quipped.

He gave her a glare of disapproval, but she was in no mood for compromise.

"Anyway, you're the one who's just getting out of hospital, and if he wants you, he knows where to find you."

He didn't dare argue, and instead turned his attention to another important matter he'd been considering.

"Me Aunty Barbara lives in Australia, she came over for mum's funeral and she told me I'd be welcome to go and stay with her any time. She went out there in the eighties with her first husband, and she runs a small hotel on the gold coast. What do you say to you and me going down there for a few months, let the dust settle here for a bit, eh?"

The offer took Assumpta by surprise, but in a pleasant way, and she was tempted.

"And what will your Aunty Barbara say when her priest nephew shows up on the doorstep with his female _friend _in tow? She inquired.

Peter smirked.

"She was brought up in the Catholic faith, same as mum, but she's not exactly what you'd call devout. She's a divorcee herself, and she's no children of her own, so I've always been special to her."

"Living in a land down under, eh?" Assumpta grinned.

"Well, I don't know about that, BallyK is still our home, isn't it?" He shrugged.

"Don't they say, that home is where the heart is? Well, my heart is with you, so I suppose that means as long as I'm with you, I'm home," she smiled.

Peter was touched, and he gazed adoringly at her.

"I know we're not having the easiest of starts, but I'm in this for the long haul, you know. I want to marry you, Assumpta, and have a family, I want us to have lots of kids."

"Define lots?" She asked with mock alarm.

The most surprising thing to her was that she didn't find the idea abhorrent.

"Let's start with half a dozen and take it from there," he grinned.

Motherhood had never been high on her list of priorities, but she knew Peter would make be a fantastic dad. They hadn't done anything more than kiss yet, and the prospect of making babies with him made her tingle with anticipation.

"Sure you'll make a good Catholic of me yet," she laughed.

* * *

Carmel Power had been the length and breadth of the village trying to gather information about their curate. The people were friendly and polite enough, but this was a close knit community. The mere suggestion that the priest and the local landlady were anything more than friends was either met with denial or outright derision. She was about to give it up as a bad lot when an aquamarine coloured van came into view. The driver and passenger had to be her persons of interest, and she watched as they drove up to the curate's house. He exited the van alone and then the woman drove back down the hill to park outside the pub.

She decided to seize the moment.

"Would you be the landlady by any chance? My name's Carmel Power, I wonder if you could spare me five minutes for a quick chat?"

Assumpta gave her a suspicious look and decided she'd play along for a while.

"A chat was it? About anything in particular?" She inquired as she unlocked the doors to Fitzgerald's and invited the reporter in.

The place was still in darkness but there were banging sounds emanating from the cellar.

"Will I get you a drink? The electric's off but I'm sure I could rustle something up."

Carmel asked for a diet coke, and not minding it was warm, she got straight to the point.

"I saw you dropping Father Clifford off, it must be a relief to you to have him home safe and sound."

"It's a relief to us all, I'm sure, and especially to those who had to sit through Father MacAnally giving mass," Assumpta jested.

"I'm with The Enquirer, and I'm hoping to write a piece on the stresses faced by young priests in the Catholic Church. I expect you've been a big comfort to Father Clifford in his time of need, he'll have been glad to have a close friend like you to lean on," Carmel smiled as if what she was insinuating was perfectly innocent.

"He's got a lot of friends in this village, it's that kind of place, and there's no shortage of leaning posts," the landlady had dealt with trickier customers than this one.

"Did I hear you'd recently separated from your husband? That must have been a very difficult decision, for a devout Catholic like yourself," the reporter wasn't going to be outfoxed so easily.

Assumpta let out a heavy sigh, and was grateful not to be swearing on the bible, at least.

"Sure isn't faith both a blessing and a curse, at times," she said.

Carmel pursed her lips and decided to fire off one last parting shot.

"You wouldn't be the first woman to fall in love with a priest, you know, I've seen it happen, and best you get your side of the story in before the mud starts flying," she coaxed.

Assumpta's temper was in danger of giving her away, but she was saved by a timely intervention.

"I thought I heard voices," Padraig emerged from the cellar.

"Your car's ready, when you are," he informed the journalist.

Carmel stared intently at the landlady, who had managed to retain her poker face.

"Thank you, Padraig, I think Ms Power was just about to leave, isn't that so?" Assumpta challenged the reporter.

She realised there was nothing to be gained from staying and she placed her card on the bar before heading for the door.

"Call me, if ever you need to talk."

_Sure I'd call Father Mac first, and that's saying something._

Assumpta used a candle to set the card alight and dropped it into a nearby ashtray.

"Well, Padraig, you sorted out one of my power problems, anyway," she smiled.


	4. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

The Spirit and the Flesh

4. Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Peter gathered his meagre possessions together and began to stuff them into his rucksack. He hadn't been at the task long when there was a knock on the door and he went to answer it.

"Niamh?" He exclaimed with surprise.

"What can I do for you?"

"Going somewhere?" She indicated towards the pile of clothes he was packing.

He fidgeted about with discomfort and reluctantly met her inquisitive gaze.

"I know Assumpta's spoken to you, and I'm sorry to be causing upset, but I've got to follow my heart," he said.

"So that's it, is it? What about Kieran's christening? You gave your word," Niamh was hurt.

Peter felt guilty but his mind was made up.

"I'm sure Father Mac will be happy to step in, you deserve to have a proper priest officiating at such an important occasion."

"It's the priesthood you're turning your back on, isn't it, not God? Sure what's a few more days? The christening is on Saturday, and you've a whole lifetime ahead of you with Assumpta," she argued.

"Niamh, please try and understand, I can't," he continued packing his things.

"Think about it, at least. The whole village stood behind you against that reporter who was digging for dirt, you can't just walk away without so much as a word," she implored him.

Peter was conflicted and once he was left alone with his thoughts, the old doubts started to creep in. He knew he couldn't be without Assumpta, his nightmare vision of her death had assured him of that. But turning his back on the priesthood was proving to be a painful process, for more than himself.

The ringing of the telephone snapped him out of his reverie and he rushed to answer it. The call was from an irate Father Mac, who remonstrated with him at great length over having to issue a rebuttal to Carmel Power's cloaked allegations. He felt he might be struck down at any minute for denying any knowledge of the true nature of his curate's relationship with Assumpta Fitzgerald. Father Mac requested a meeting, and his not-quite-ex-curate felt he could hardly refuse, all things considered.

Peter decided he needed fresh air and exercise, after being cooped up in the hospital. Ballykissangel had never seemed as small to him as it did when he stepped outside of the house, and he was resolved to walk into Cilldargan. He warily eyed Fitzgerald's and wondered how Assumpta would react to the idea of him staying on as a priest long enough to perform Kieran's christening. He would still have to break his ordination vows in order to be with her. She never asked him to leave the priesthood, but neither of them could have been part of an illicit affair, he knew that. They wouldn't be able to marry in church when the time came, and he was willing to accept a civil ceremony. He also knew he wouldn't be able to remain celibate until, and if, the pope ever released him from his vows. Peter lamented the fact that for him, falling in love with someone was seen as scandalous. He wasn't doing any of this so he could have sexual relations with Assumpta, but he couldn't deny he craved that kind of closeness and intimacy with her.

The lights in Fitzgerald's flickered on and then the place was plunged into darkness once again. Peter felt his blood run cold as he recalled the vivid dream he'd had of his love being electrocuted. He raced down to the bar, and finding the door locked, he pounded on it calling out her name.

"Peter, whatever's wrong?" Assumpta was alarmed to see how pale he looked when she let him in.

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with the full force of his passion. The fear of losing her made him forget his propriety, and he also failed to notice the presence of Brendan at the bar.

"Is this the loving embrace of the church at work so?" The school teacher quipped.

Peter was mortified, as he was still in his priest's attire, with the Roman collar in place.

"Brendan, I… I'm sorry, but this is exactly what it looks like," he said.

Assumpta blushed but she wasn't exactly penitent.

"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone, sure I'm hardly a saint meself," Brendan smiled.

"Truth be told, it's not exactly taken me unawares, I've had my suspicions," he confessed.

"We've not been carrying on behind everyone's backs, I wouldn't want you to think that. I'm leaving the priesthood so me and Assumpta can be together," Peter explained.

"Sure I never thought you were the sort who'd want to have his cake and eat it, you're just not that kind of man," Brendan got up and patted the soon-to-be-ex-priest on the shoulder, and was rewarded with a smile of gratitude.

The bar lights came on and Padraig shouted up from the cellar that the fuse box was almost sorted. He appeared soon after, expecting to be rewarded for his efforts with a drink or three. Peter had a quiet word with Assumpta and explained about his visit to see Father Mac. She wasn't overjoyed with the news but she did at least understand his reasons. He asked her if he could come back after his trip into Cilldargan, to use the phone to call his Aunty Barbara. They needed to start making travel plans for their journey to Australia, and decide how soon to leave. Assumpta couldn't wait to get Peter away from Father Mac's reach, as the insecure part of her still feared he would change his mind.

* * *

Father MacAnally greeted Peter cordially and was in a more magnanimous mood than he had been earlier in the day. The news of his soon-to-be-former curate's intention to take an extended vacation with his lady love in Australia, helped to smooth the way. The old priest was still severe in his attitude to what he regarded as a sinful union, but he conditionally agreed to Peter staying on to perform Kieran's christening. Father Mac warned against him giving any explicit explanations from the pulpit as to why he was leaving the church. He reasoned that the gossips would already know, and shouting it from the rooftops might only attract more unwelcome attention from the gutter press. He counselled restraint and discretion, making it clear he expected the standards required of a priest to be maintained, until Father Clifford turned in his collar.

_Once a priest, always a priest, _Father Mac's words echoed after him.

The weather took a turn for the worst, and Assumpta fretted for Peter as he was exposed to the elements without his transport. The pub had been closed for most of the day due to the essential electrical repairs, and with Quigley's new Chinese restaurant opening, she wasn't expecting much in the way of business. Assumpta considered it unlikely that Niamh would cover the bar for her, and so she entrusted the keys to Padraig and went in search of Peter. She hoped he had taken shelter somewhere and that she wouldn't find him walking home soaked to the skin.

The rain had stopped by the time she got into the van, but the skies above were still grey and stormy. She only got as far as the road that led to the grotto when she spied him up ahead, looking like a drowned rat.

"I'm after getting déjà vu," Assumpta grinned as she pulled up alongside him.

Peter instantly recalled the first time she had ridden to his rescue, and he smiled as he contemplated the notion of fate.

"How do I know you're not just in the habit of picking up strange men?" He jested.

"Ah, don't put yourself down, you're not that strange," she laughed.

He looked over at the grotto and decided he would like to pause there for a moment. Assumpta joined him and they stood holding hands in silence as they stared at the statue.

"I told you once before that it's never moved a millimetre, but sure, I didn't believe in miracles back then," she gave him a playful wink.

He was about to kiss her when the sound of an approaching car grabbed their attention. The vehicle came to a standstill next to the van and they both started in surprise to see the driver striding towards them.

"Leo? What the hell are you doing here?" Assumpta approached her estranged husband.

He pushed past her and headed straight for her companion.

"Well now Father, isn't this a lovely spot for you to be alone with my wife? I suppose the two of you were just about to slip behind the blessed virgin, eh? Sorry to spoil your fun," Leo sneered.

Peter started to protest, although he believed he deserved what was being thrown at him, and worse.

Assumpta badgered her estranged husband to give an explanation for his sudden appearance. He kept eyeballing his rival as he answered her.

"A mate of mine works for The Enquirer; he rang me up and told me a colleague of his had been temporarily stranded in Ballykissangel. Apparently, this colleague somehow got the impression something was going on between the local publican and the village priest. Well you can imagine my surprise, so I drove straight over here to see my ever-loving wife for an explanation," his tone was cold and sarcastic.

"I asked you if I was on a hiding to nothing, and you wouldn't tell me," he jabbed at Peter's chest.

"All I want to know is, how long has this been going on?"

"Leo, please don't," Assumpta reached out to him but he shrank away from her touch.

"Nothing happened while you were in BallyK," Peter assured him.

"Ah, that's alright then," Leo curled his lip and then suddenly lashed out at his rival, punching him in the face.

Assumpta shrieked in horror and rushed to Peter's side. She found a tissue in her pocket and began to tenderly wipe the blood from his nose.

"Did you ever love me?" Leo asked her in desperation as tears flowed down his cheeks.

"I tried."

It was the only honest answer Assumpta could give, and she didn't want to twist the knife.

"It was always him, wasn't it?" He was defeated and resignation had set in.

"I'm truly sorry," Peter's remorse for the pain he'd caused was heartfelt.

"You should be," Leo didn't hide his devastation as he turned and walked away.

* * *

Peter and Assumpta made up their minds to leave Ballykissangel straight after Kieran's christening. There didn't seem much point in delaying it once their decision to leave had been taken. They arranged to travel to London and stay in a hotel for a couple of nights, after which they would fly to Sydney from Heathrow. Peter's Aunty Barbara had been delighted to hear of his plans. He had spoken to her at his mother's funeral regarding his growing dissatisfaction with the priesthood, and had hinted at the reasons behind it. His aunt was keen to meet Assumpta, and he was sure they would get on like a house on fire.

All that remained was to sort out their affairs in BallyK and say a proper farewell to their loyal friends. The gossips were in full flow and some unkind comments had been made, but they were both too happy to let it get them down. Padraig agreed to let Kevin take Fionn which was a huge weight off Assumpta's mind. She knew how the boy doted on her dog and that she couldn't leave him in better hands. Niamh had mellowed considerably since Peter told her he would honour his commitment to perform Kieran's christening. She even agreed to take on the running of Fitzgerald's until Assumpta decided what to do with it. Brendan and Siobhan were sad about the couple's decision to leave the village, as were their other true friends. But mostly everyone understood their reasons for wanting to make a fresh start in Australia.

Peter was obliged to attend a meeting with the bishop, as protocol for being released from the priesthood dictated. He was accompanied by Father Mac, who seemed remarkably sanguine considering the situation. He helpfully accounted for his good mood by explaining that in regard to his recent crop of Ballykissangel curates, he was hoping for third time lucky. Father Clifford had been warned by the bishop, that Pope John Paul II was unlikely to ever officially release him from his vow of celibacy. His papacy was known for its stricter views on granting dispensations from the priesthood. Peter and Assumpta had done no more than kiss, although the temptation to go further had tested them both. He knew it would be unfair to ask her to wait indefinitely, not to mention an impossible test of his own resolve. They both decided that once Peter removed his Roman collar for the last time, he would no longer honour his vows.

The night before the christening, all of Peter and Assumpta's close friends gathered in Fitzgerald's to give them a good send off. Their bags were packed and everything was in place for their journey.

Brian Quigley was the first to raise a toast to the couple. He had brought Liam, Donal, a selection of Shamie Chung's best dishes and a bottle of Champagne with him. Doctor Ryan spoke afterwards and offered a few warm words wishing them all the best for the future. Eamon expressed his regret that they were leaving, and said he'd miss her Irish stew. Ambrose got quite emotional, as he reminisced about his school days with Assumpta, even though he recalled he didn't like her one bit in those days. Niamh hugged them both as Brendan, Padraig and Siobhan joined together to sing The Parting Glass. There wasn't a dry eye in the house by the end of the evening.

_Of all the money that e'er I had, I spent it in good company._

_And of all the harm that e'er I've done, alas it was to none but me._

_And all I've done for want of wit, to memory now I can't recall._

_So fill to me the parting glass. Goodnight and joy be with you all._

_Of all the comrades that e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away,_

_And all the sweethearts that e'er I had, they would wish me one more day to stay,_

_But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise and you should not,_

_I'll gently rise and I'll softly call, "Goodnight and joy be with you all!"_

_A man may drink and not be drunk, a man may fight and not be slain_

_A man may court a pretty girl and perhaps be welcomed back again_

_But since it has so ordered been by a time to rise and a time to fall_

_Come fill to me the parting glass, good night and joy be with you all_

_Come fill to me the parting glass, good night and joy be with you all_

_[The Parting Glass - A traditional Irish and Scottish song, of which there are many fine versions. I have a personal fondness for Cara Dillon's interpretation of the song]_

The day of Kieran Egan's christening brought with it blue skies and sunshine. Ballykissangel always looked beautiful, and even more so when the sun shone down on it. Peter felt no regret over his decision, but he savoured every small detail of his last act as a priest. The baptism was performed perfectly and was a joyous occasion, which was just as it should be. The moment Peter removed his collar for the last time was bittersweet when it came. He took a long lingering look around the sacristy and then walked out to stand before the altar. He knelt and offered a prayer before leaving the church.

Assumpta waited in Fitzgerald's as Peter said his last goodbye to St. Joseph's. He was subdued when he finally entered the bar.

"I don't know what I'll miss most about this place," she pondered as she took one last look around.

Assumpta decided she would miss it all, especially the people.

Peter grabbed their luggage and held out his hand to her.

"Ready?" He asked.

She nodded and smiled as they walked hand in hand to the car.

Peter glanced one last time at St. Joseph's and then at Fitzgerald's. He took Assumpta's hand and tenderly kissed it.

"Do you think we'll ever come back here?" She was thinking aloud.

"Never say never," he smiled and they drove away.

**THE END.**


End file.
